


Samuel

by aalinde



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Amnesia, Character Study, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Identity Issues, Journals, Loss of Identity, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Other, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalinde/pseuds/aalinde
Summary: A short story based around a character idea for a changeling with memory problems:What if you were to wake up with no idea where you were, who you were, or who the people around you were. With a journal supposedly written by yourself that tries to explain your past and your decaying mind. When the identity laid out might not even be yours.





	Samuel

**Author's Note:**

> Alright first of all, if you clicked on this thinking it would be the next part of the 'The Year After' series sorry to disappoint this is a Dn'D character short story. Though I do have the next installment to 'The Year After' in the works. It will focus on Shuri and Peter's relationship, but enough about that.
> 
> This is a short story I made for a character I have called Samuel, who has a series of memory problems, for one he has a decaying memory which means he sometimes wakes up with no recollection of the past day, week, or even month. sometimes it tears into his past and the lost parts of who he used to be. On top of that, he's a changeling who currently doesn't know he's a changeling. I thought changeling would suit the concept since they usually have a series of identity problems, to begin with. It's partly inspired by similar characters and concepts I've heard of from other campaigns. But also if you are a follower of the DreamSMP and some of the fan-made content this is also hugely inspired by Ranboo's character and fueled by Kanaya's new song 'Panic Room', which was on repeat while I wrote this.

The air is slightly damp, the morning rays of the sun just rising, breaking through the forest's leaf cover. In a clearing used as a campsite we see five figures, still slumbering into the early morning as the forest wakes. The ambers inside the fire still warm to the touch, despite having burned through the night. Weapons are laid out on a rack looking newly polished, or all except a knife clutched in the hand of a sleeping man who grips it a bit tighter as he twitches in his sleep. Burned-out lanterns stand on a crate used as a makeshift table, on it a map lie rolled up with a few other pieces of parchment. In a cage by one of our smaller compatriots, a chicken starts clucking as it wakes, preening its feathers unaware that it will soon become breakfast. A light snoring drifts through the glade and none can really tell if it comes from one, all, or just a few of the sleeping figures.

As the sun moves further up on the sky, some of the travelers begin to stir. A half-orc stretches his limbs, battle-worn scars on display, he looks around at his still sleeping friends before grabbing the newly sharpened ax and the chicken. The rustling wakes the knife-wielding human who sits up with a start still half asleep holding out the knife as if to stab someone. The orc just pats him on the head grunting out a greeting before walking away, used to the other's way of waking. Groggy but seeing no danger just his fellow folk, the man turns on his side grumbling about bird song and the sun being too bright. Returning just moments later, now with an empty cage and a dead chicken the Half-orc nudges the fire genasi, a recent addition to the group. The morning is calm almost serene as the genasi and orc work on breakfast. The genasi relights the fire as the orc prepares the chicken.

Our smallest member wakes to the soft humming of a familiar travel song and the smell of cooking meat. The halfling puts on their glasses taking in this calm which so contrasted the end of their most recent job. Humming along with the genasi the halfling makes a point to check up on their route for the day, noting that they should be arriving in another couple of days. The human from before had also joined them at the fire, having given up on sleeping in. Still, that leaves one figure still curled into a sleeping bag held tight by the coils of sleep. The others let him be for a time, noting his difficult sleeping the past couple of nights. But as their chatter grew and breakfast was served the sound of laughter and tin cutlery clattering slowly roused him from an emptiness, something you would not quite call sleep, more like a trance of sorts.

As he rouses groaning over the sun's rays, his vision clearing, the grogginess of sleep quickly leaving him. And then something else becomes clear, or rather it doesn’t. For one the man does not recognize where he is, and what's more the four around the fire bidding him a good morning and offering him breakfast seems to be total strangers. The more he tries to remember where he is or how he got here in the first place the more he realizes he does not know, he cant remember. It brings a certain panic to the man as tries to think of anything at all but he cant remember. He doesn't remember them, he doesn’t remember this place and with a start, he realizes horrified that he doesn’t know who he is. No matter how hard he thinks he can't remember his own name, he remembers names and he knows that he has one but his brain keeps blanking. He doesn’t know who he is.

A gentle hand grips his own and brings it down from his hair, he hadn't even realized he had been doing it, but now he feels the sharp stinging in his scalp from where his nails had dug in. It’s the halfling, he knows that the person in front of him is a halfling, he doesn't know where the word comes from, or why he knows it, but it feels right. Before the halfling, who at this point is looking at him with so much concern and worry that it almost hurts, can ask him anything, he speaks. But the voice speaking feels wrong somehow, like it’s not his own, but he knows that that is his voice. Can one forget the sound of their own voice? “Who am I?” It’s such a simple question but holds so much weight and the fear and pain are obvious, as his voice quakes, emotions that he can barely put a name to, wrecks through him. Whatever the halfling had wanted to ask seems to become irrelevant as he chokes on his own words. it’s the human who breaks the tension. Once more he is unsure how he knows that the man is human, but he does, and somehow that brings forth a simple thought, he is human as well. It’s such a simple fact, but right now any knowledge of who or what he is, is a blessing.

“Samuel, your name is Samuel.” The man says it with such conviction that he- that Samuel can’t help but believe him, still it is but a drop in the ocean of knowledge he no longer has, of knowledge he knows he should have. Without a word the orc stands rummaging by the crate-made-table, before pulling out a thick leather-bound book, the cover is plain, but a single red bookmark hangs from the middle and a quill is tied to a string and fastened to the book. “It is yours, holds your memories, or what you could remember-“ The orc seems to hesitate with continuing as Samuel grips the book. looking down on it as if should the answer to the universe. In this instance, for him, it just might.

The halfling seems to take over where the orc can’t find words.

“When you first started traveling with us you told us that you have bouts of amnesia.” He pauses and looks at Samuel making sure he is following, “We have seen it happen before, but usually you only lose a couple of days at a time, the worst we’ve seen is a month, you- you told us that this could happen that you could lose everything and that if it did to make sure you read the journal.”

The halfling puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a smile, one that makes Samuel feel just a bit calmer despite the circumstances. Samuel tries to smile back not wanting to be rude to these people, who only seem to wanna help. To these people who know him yet, he cannot remember them.

“We don’t know what you have written in here, but if there are any blanks still left after you have read it we will try to fill in as much as we can.” Samuel nods, unable to voice an answer afraid that he might have forgotten how the words are supposed to sound. The halfling stands again giving him space something that he is both grateful for but also want the other to stay close. His presence feeling grounding when nothing makes sense. The serenity of the morning seems to have been broken. Slowly he caresses the cover, he can feel how worn the leather is, the edges of the paper feel rough, a testament to how much it had been used. How often had he had to read through this? How often had he forgotten? They said he normally only lost a little time but how can he be sure. Almost afraid, he opens the book. The first page just reads in big cursive letters: _Don’t forget who you are, always remember._

Turning the page with only slight hesitance, again there's that feeling of recognition despite him not remembering having ever seen, spoken, or read the words. The writing as well feels so familiar that he's sure if he were to write something down it would look just like the handwriting on the page. It gives him confidence in the stranger's words, that this is his and whatever life he may have forgotten is written down in here. He begins to read;

_Our name is Samuel_

_We are, at the time of writing this, a 25-year-old human, with green eyes and blonde hair that’s just long enough to be put in a bun._

_I am starting this journal to remind myself of, well everything. Our memory is decaying, and I probably started doing this too late since I don’t remember why it’s decaying. I can’t tell you to look for a cure because I don’t know:_

_1) what it is we are trying to cure._

_2) if there even is one._

_I’m going to write down everything I remember of our past which at this point isn't a lot, just bits and pieces, but it has to be enough. And then I’m going to start writing down my experiences and memories I make. Friends we meet, I guess enemies as well but I’m really hoping there aren’t gonna be any of those._

_It’s important that we don’t forget, I know it is, I don’t really know why anymore I just know it is. It’s important that if you read this that you continue to write in here, If this is the me who just lost the last few memories then it might feel a bit strange to do so, leaving notes for your future self and all. I know I feel that way right now. But it’s important, without our memories who are we really? So just read this journal and hopefully, everything will make a bit more sense._

On the many pages after that, there are written bits and pieces of a past that supposedly belonged to him, and in a way, he can believe it. Every word, every paragraph brings back a feeling of remembrance, like everything is just on the tip of his tongue. Still, no matter how hard he tries he can’t remember any of it, not the fact he grew up by a lake and an old witch's tree, or the fact that he went to a small school in a local village. He can’t remember the young half-elf named Clarisa who his past self seem to speak so fondly of and had been his first kiss. He can't make sense of all the holes in the story, for one his past self seems to have already lost most memories from after his 16th birthday up until his early twenties.

At some point, the books speak of traveling with an orc named Henry, and for a while he thought it might be the one sitting just ten feet from him, only to see himself write: _I’m not sure who this Henry is or was, but the orc who was supposedly my travel companion is no longer with me and seems he hasn’t been for quite some time._

It not until he’s almost halfway through the book that mentions of the people he’s currently camping with come up.

_Meet a nice cartographer in the town I’m staying at. His name is Ratch, he’s a halfling and works at the town's library. He speaks of wanting to go see the world and draw up maps of unknown places. He has quite a lot of energy despite being up there in age, I do hope he gets to complete his dream one day._

_*_

_I’ve been talking with Ratch a lot and seems my own tales have inspired him, though I can’t guess what would be so inspiring, a lone man searching for a past he does not know. He asked to travel with me if just for a time when I set off again, I could not turn him down. So now I am traveling with a friend once more, not that I mind the roads get lonely when I only have myself and the journal._

_*_

_Me and Ratch have been on the road for a while now, we had a nasty run-in with a griff, lucky for us another traveler was nearby, a half-orc named Bastian. He’s much more of a fighter than me and Ratch. With his help, we were able to escape mostly unscathed. We’ve made camp together and are planning on traveling with him at least until the next town. There is a lot more safety in numbers and this particular forest seems a bit more hostile than I would like._

_*_

_I quite like Bastians’ company and it seems Ratch does as well. He has a wonderful sense of humor, and an excellent cook, I don’t remember the last time I had quite as good a meal like the ones he makes’. I’m almost sad that we have to part in the next town, either way, I think I can write him down as a friend should I ever run into him again._

_*_

_Me and Ratch decided that we would extend an invitation for Bastion to keep traveling with us, we are unsure whether he will take us up on the offer since he had mentioned having to meet up with a friend in town. Alas, we have agreed he should have the option._

_*_

_Bastion agreed to come with us and he brought his friends along as well, neither me nor Ratch minds really. Though his friend, a Human man named Terry, is on the shadier side I have to admit. I don’t think all his gold was acquired through legal means. Still, I’m not particularly worried, Bastian has a great deal of faith and trust in his companion. It seems the two work od jobs together whenever they find themselves traveling together. From all the stories Bastion has told, he’s a well-versed adventurer. This does however bring our little group up to four, and I must say I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed traveling as much._

_*_

_Today our group gained a fifth member, surprisingly so. I’m very happy to still be alive, though I do hope Terry doesn’t pull another stunt like it. We had been traveling quite a while, keeping to a larger road when we stumbled upon it. A group of bandits had attacked a small caravan, from where I stood I could already see that the encounter had been bloody. They had been in the middle of tying up a young woman. A genasi from what I could see. Terry got a stroke of heroism whether it was the woman or the fact that a child was very clearly lying dead on the road was hard to say, but Terry charged ahead intercepting the thugs, and we couldn’t leave a friend to fight on his own, so we ended up giving the bandits a run for their money. Afterward, we freed the poor girl. We decided to camp out for a couple of days since both the lady and Terry had wounds that need treatment._

_*_

_We are packing up our camp both Terry and the woman, who we learned is named Sparks, had healed up well enough. She hadn't known the others in caravan only hitching a ride from one town to the other, though she did make a point of wanting to bury the dead. She's a caring young woman, I think she feels responsible for what happened to the poor folk. Anyway, we insisted that she travel with us at least until the next town it’s not safe for any injured person to traverse alone in this day and age._

_*_

_Terry has somehow convinced Sparks to keep traveling with us, not entirely sure how since she seemed hesitant when we gave her the offer. Terry also seems to be very fond of the young fire genasi, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried pursuing her, though from what me and Ratch can tell she doesn’t share his sentiment. We are heading out again in 3 days, Ratch has heard the news of some uncharted caves he would like to visit._

The pages also tell him that he was a magic user, experienced in smaller spells. Nothing too combat-oriented, more practical than anything, and a myriad of first aid spells. Some of the healing magic he finds he had learned in an attempt to either reverse or stop his memory from decaying further. It also seems that while he has come to think of all four as friends, he was closest to Ratch, and he almost finds a better retiling of the halflings past than his own in the journal. If he had to guess he had been traveling with Racth for almost 5 months and they picked up Bastion and Terry about 3 months ago, with Sparks only joining the group a couple of weeks ago. They were only just heading back from the caves to their next destination, at least according to the journal.

While the journal is helpful and he does to a degree believe the words in it, Samuels still finds it hard to believe that it’s about himself. That he somehow could just have forgotten all of this. That people that he had laughed and cried with have all but disappeared from his mind. But then again he truly can’t remember anything, he tries to think first about what he did the day before, and then he tries to remember anything from his past at all, but nothing comes to mind. It’s as if the only knowledge he has, is knowledge of the world around him. He knows that whats he in is a forest and knows that trees grow here. He knows what a tree is, and he knows that there are different kinds of trees. He even knows what they look like and can picture a birch or spruce in his head. He can even identify the ones around him as being mostly oaks, but he can't remember ever seeing one before or where he could have gotten this knowledge from.

It’s Sparks that breaks the careful silence, and it seems the four around the fire are very lost on what to do, not that Samuel can blame. He feels just as lost though for different reasons.

“How are you feeling Samuel?” It is spoken quietly, but with a kindness that Samuel had almost expect from the way he had written about her. He swallows, throat dry, how did he feel? Confused, angry, sad, more than a little lost.

“I-“ He rubs his hands over his face it was horrible waking up like this no idea who you are or where you came from.

“I don’t know... Lost I guess, it- it’s hard to wrap my head around, but then again I feel like it shouldn’t be since there's literally nothing there.” He laughs dryly, not sure if it was the right thing to say. In the end, he gives a tender smile before standing up and walking over to sit with the others.

“Let me see if got this right.” And he first points to Ratch “Your Ratch-“ and he gets a small nod with an encouraging smile from the halfling. “-and we’ve been traveling together for five months I think.”

“six actually, but yes.” Samuel nods and moves on to Bastian

“Your Bastian, and apparently the best cook I know, there's a lot of compliments to your food in the journal at least, We’ve traveled together for a little over three months, and you brought-“ And he points to Terry now with a bit more confidence since so far it seems he's got I mostly right.

“-Terry there with you to the group.” Terry gives Samuel a thumbs up and a wide smile for his efforts. So far so good he thinks. And lastly, he points to Sparks, who still have that kind smile on her face, and Samuel can’t help but be reminded of how a mother would look at her child fondly.

“Your Sparks, and we hadn't known each other that long before this-“ And he gestures kind wildly to himself and his head. Sparks laughs, but nods.

“Right but, I would still say we had become friends. Though I of course don’t know what you think, I do hope you only wrote good things about me in your journal.” He nods and absentmindedly plays with the pages of the journal.

“I wrote good things about all of you it seems, but I did note that I thought you to be very kind from the get-go.” This seems to make Sparks smile brighter, seeming happy with the answer she got.

“And for what it’s worth Samuel we aren't going to abandon you, alright. We’ll help you get back your memories, and if we fail we’ll help you make new ones that you can cherish.” Terry says as he stands clapping Samuel on the back. The mood around the five lightens as the others give their agreements. Samuel might not remember meeting these people, but he knows he wants to remember them going forward. And if for just a little while Samuel feels calm, he feels safe and happy in the knowledge that despite his lack of memories he has people that care.

Then Bastian stands clapping his hands and looks at Samuel.

“Now how about some breakfast, yeah. All this panic can make one hungry hmm.”

Gladly taking the offered plate Samuel digs in. and while he keeps mostly quiet from the conversations, a new serenity does surround the campsite. It’s not the same as before, but it’s just as good. Though deep down Samuel can’t help but feel that something is wrong. Like a voice is whispering in the back of his mind to run and never look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Currently, Samuel's concept is very open, I don't actually have a campaign to play him in, and his character sheet is halfway finished. I mainly have the memory and backstory down. Though my intention with him, if I ever play him (which I hope I get to one day) is that his past memory is kinda up for debate even in the journal he writes in.
> 
> I also wanted to leave the whole journal concept open since there are several ways to play it out, not everything in the journal has to be true per se, it could be Samuel's past self trying to set up a false identity for himself. As for the reason his memory is decaying I've played in my head with both the idea of him having done it to himself for one reason or another. Or having someone else do it to him, either to protect him or get rid of him as a threat, why he would be a threat I don't know haven't gotten to that since again I haven't decided on anything.
> 
> I see him as a cool concept that could go a lot of ways, for one since he's a changeling the age of 25 as stated in the journal might not be his actual age, he might be a lot older or even younger.


End file.
